Angels Lost in Darkness - The Resurrection
by CayleeElizabeth
Summary: The voice is hoarse and barely audible but he hears it just the same and is quick to lower his weapon and now clearly hears her mantra. "I'm alive." - "I'm alive." - "I'm alive." Beth rises from the dead, but as is all things that have risen, she is not who she once was.
1. Chapter 1

Angels Lost In Darkness – The Resurrection

"_**Come down from the cross and save yourself!" In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. "He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself!" - Mark 15: 30-31**_

_**I.**_

She awakens to darkness. Darkness and a sharp ringing in her ear. Darkness and a sharp ringing in her ear, and a dull throbbing ache in her head. She tries to move her arms but quickly finds that she can barely wiggle them against her sides. She makes an attempt to move her head but finds she can only move it marginally to the side, causing the ringing and throbbing to suddenly become more intense. She feels a heavy weight pressing down on her, feels her chest tighten and her heart race as she struggles to remain calm while she assesses her situation. She can feel something against her face, soft like cotton, and as she wiggles her fingers once again she realizes that the soft cotton is wrapped completely around her body. She closes her eyes, though it doesn't really matter if they're closed or open, the blackness around her shows no sign of light. Struggling to keep her breaths calm and steady she wiggles her right hand, wiggles and stretches her fingers until she feels the cotton shift and something cold and crumbly slipping between her fingers. She grasps it, runs it through her fingers and lets out a choked gasp as she suddenly understands what the crushing weight is against her. Dirt. Georgia red clay to be exact. She's been buried. Buried alive.

Closing her eyes tight she lets out a shaky breath and feels a single tear roll down her cheek and deep inside the recesses of her mind she hears a voice, a voice she doesn't recognize, utter words that she's sure she's never heard.

_"I don't cry anymore."_

So she steels herself, and doesn't let another tear fall as she once again begins the process of wiggling her fingers, pulling at the cotton coffin around her, flexing her legs and feet, being mindful to keep the cotton securely around her face, reserving her breaths in the small pocket of air that has been gifted to her.

There was a reason she woke up, and it wasn't to die.

She counts each breath she takes, makes sure every inhale is short and shallow and not greedy. The lack of oxygen is making her light headed but she doesn't stop, keeps kicking her legs, trying to push the dirt up and away from her until finally she no longer feels the heavy weight of the earth pressing down on her ankles and shins.

She allows herself a slightly larger breath of air for her victory before wiggling her arms free of the cotton sheet and begins the painstaking task of pushing the remaining dirt up and away from her torso. The increased movement forces the cotton around her face to shift and fall against her nose and mouth with the weight of the dirt nearly suffocating her.

Her time is up, and with a final desperate push she feels the earth give way and her arms are finally free. Quickly she claws at the dirt covering her face, pushing it down toward her middle until she sees light through the cotton. White, the cotton sheet is white, and she lets out a strangled sob that bubbles into a giggle as tears now freely flow from the corners of her eyes.

These are tears of joy, and so she will allow them.

With shaky hands she pulls the cotton away from her face and takes a lungful of the humid summer air before collapsing beside her shallow grave.

_The Resurrection_

He'd been forced to go further and further out, away from the safety of the perimeter he had established months ago in order to get the supplies he needed to survive. He traveled with the denseness of the woods as his cover, marking trees with different symbols for his land marks. He'd been here before, in the winter. Found this church nestled in the woods, but didn't have the gall to disturb it at the time.

Things had changed.

He frowns when he notices that someone had already disturbed the House of God before he had the chance to. The area was surrounded with bodies of Walkers, large metal spears that look to be pieces of the Church's organ surrounding the entrance, the large wooden doors wide open. Cautiously, he steps inside, weapon drawn as he hovers just inside the threshold, taking in the scene around him. The inside was just as gruesome as the outside. The place was torn to shreds, Walker bodies strewn across the floor, mostly headless.

Stepping around the corpses and debris he makes his way to the altar, rummaging through items on the table in front of him, trying to find anything of use, when from the corner of his eye he spots a bulky blue duffel bag stowed in a darkened corner of the room. With a chuckle he abandons the table and makes his way over to the bag, Pulling it open he finds a miracle.

With a hearty laugh he grazes his fingers lightly over the bounty of weapons, half afraid they'll disappear under his touch. Pulling out one of the rifles, he spots a folded up piece of paper. Settling on the floor he pulls out the paper and isn't too surprised to find that it's a map. It's when he unfolds it and reads the message scrawled at the bottom that he finds his second miracle.

"SORRY, I WAS AN ASSHOLE, COME TO WASHINGTON. THE NEW WORLD'S GONNA NEED RICK GRIMES."

His eyes follow the thick dark line that traces it's way from Georgia north to D.C. And he thinks for a moment that he could maybe track his old friend down.

_The signs are all there_.

He swallows thickly and folds up the map, stuffing it in his back pocket when he hears the familiar snarls of the Dead outside. He draws his pistol once again and makes his way back outside. His eyes scan the perimeter and he quickly finds three walkers limping their way towards the small cemetery just a few yards off. He's about to holster his weapon and head back inside when he spots a pile of white on the ground just a few feet ahead of the Walkers.

Making his way down the steps he raises his pistol and shoots one of the Walkers in the back of the skull. The sounds catches the attention of the other two and they change their direction, now moving their way towards him. He fires twice more, dropping both Walkers with ease before making his way to the pile of white that had initially drew their attention.

As he nears, it doesn't take him too long to realize it's a body wrapped up in a cotton white sheet. He frowns as he looks at the lifeless body then to the shallow ditch beside it. He hesitates, debating whether to just leave the body or bury it proper as was obviously the intention. With a sigh he takes a step back when the sheet moves and he sees a flash of blonde hair. His jaw sets as he raises his gun once again, taking aim to put the Dead down when an arm in a dirtied cast weakly rises up from the cotton.

_"__I'm alive."_

The voice is hoarse and barely audible but he hears it just the same and is quick to lower his weapon and now clearly hears her mantra.

_"__I'm alive."_

_"__I'm alive."_

_"__I'm alive."_

"_**For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve." - Corinthians 15:3-5**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N – Yeah, I'm really bad with updating on the regular, so I'm just going to leave this here as my apology. Leave a review if it pleases you. - T**

_II._

The ride back to the church is filled with silence. Maggie's crying, clutching to Glenn as her body is wracked with grief. But the only thing Daryl can hear is silence. Loud deafening silence that presses down against him as he cradles Beth across his lap, his body hunched over hers. He keeps his eyes shut because he can't bear to look at her like this but can't find the strength to let her go either.

He'd finally found her. Knew she was strong enough to survive on her own. And she was alive. Until she wasn't. He feels his stomach churn and a lump the size of a small boulder form in his throat as her voice echoes around in his head, bouncing off all the silence surrounding him.

_"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon."_

He lets out a strangled sob, can't even stop it from creeping up and around that massive lump and escaping his lips.

_"Don't."_

He takes a steadying breath and holds her against him a little tighter.

_Resurrection_

The truck comes to a stop and everyone starts to pile out the back; the new comers of the group anxious to get away from Maggie's grief and Beth's body, and Daryl.

He doesn't move. Even after Glenn and Maggie exit, Glenn half-carrying his wife as she asks over and over again, _"Why?" _ He just sits there, his arms wrapped around her lifeless body, his eyes closed as he tries to pretend that she's just sleeping. Just tired from all the fightin' and survivin' she'd done while he was gone.

He wasn't ready to face what needed to be done.

Finally Rick and Father Gabriel make their way to the back of the truck and Rick gently offers to take Beth. His head snaps up and his eyes find his friend, no, brother, and he must look like a mad man because the Father takes a hesitant step back as Daryl growls out _"No."_

The priest's eyes soften and he can't help but notice Daryl's tanned rough hands gently stroking the gold of Beth's hair and he takes a cautious step forward, his palms up in a display of submission as he approaches the feral man. The man that lost everything and has nothing to gain, who is now more beast than man.

"We can bury her in the cemetery," he offers with soft spoken words. "I can say a few words." Daryl's eyes once again meet his though they've softened slightly, becoming glassy with unshed tears. "Would she like that?" he asks, his eyes lowering slightly to the girl.

Daryl feels his chin quiver as more memories wash over him.

_"Don't you think it's beautiful?"_

"Yeah," he manages to choke out with a slight nod. "She would." And with that he finally steps out of the back of the truck and carries the girl that believed everyone else was alive when they all thought she was dead to her final resting place.

_Resurrection_

The group huddles inside the church as they struggle to console Maggie while Daryl carries Beth to the small cemetery and gently lays her beneath the shade of a large willow tree. Father Gabriel meets him out there, his eyes downcast and sullen as he offers Daryl a shovel and clean white sheet.

"I'm sorry, it's all I have," he murmurs as apology. Daryl lets out a shaky breath as he thinks back to when he burned the undead girl that was trapped in the rescue shelter he and Carol stayed in when they were so close to finding Beth.

"It'll do," he manages to say as he takes the proffered items.

"I'll leave you two," Father Gabriel says with a nod before turning back to the church and the rest of the group.

He lets some of his rage seep out while he digs her grave. Welcomes the dull ache in his arms as he scoops and lifts the heavy red clay.

"It's stupid, what you did Greene," he huffs as he digs the shovel deep into the dirt, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his brow. "But I get it," he resigns, tossing the dirt into a pile.

His grip tightens around the weathered wooden handle of the shovel and his movements become more ferocious as he lets himself simmer in the knowledge that everything that could have been was ripped away in an instant.

"_Don't want to be the last one standin'_" he growls, as he raises the shovel to dump the dirt, but the shovel is old and weathered and the clay is so heavy that it finally snaps in half under its weight.

Daryl lets out a strangled sob as he chucks the broken pieces across the green grass and falls to his knees. He doesn't know how long he stays there; kneeling at the foot of her empty grave but eventually he hears light footsteps approaching and feels a hand gently rest on his shoulder.

"Shovel broke," he mumbles, not moving, not looking up to see who's joined him because he already knows.

"It's ok," Carol says quietly, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Not deep 'nough" he continues as if he hadn't heard her at all, rubbing his hand over his face, dejected. "Walkers could get her."

There's a beat of silence.

"We could burn her," Carol finally says carefully, hesitantly, simply trying to offer a solution to the problem, and in a flash Daryl is on his feet, pulling his body away from her touch as if it burned and he's pacing around the freshly dug grave, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"We bury our own!" he shouts, taking a threatening step towards her that makes her shrink back slightly on her heels. "We bury our own," he says again, firm and final. She nods once, her chin quivering slightly before turning away and making her way back to the group.

Carefully, Daryl wraps Beth in the sheet, trying and failing to push down all the memories and emotions that want to swallow him whole.

_"What changed your mind?"_

He allows himself one last long hard look at her scarred and bloodied face before tucking the sheet over and around her head.

"_Oh."_

_Resurrection_

It's almost midday when the group gathers around the shallow grave to say their final good-byes. Everyone says somethin' except for Daryl and Judith; both unable to form the words that couldn't possibly explain a fraction of what they felt for the young woman. And in the end, he feels the Father said it best.

"_For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.* And the Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen."_

_Resurrection_

He blames the overwhelming grief, the sorrow pulling him down and drowning him, blames his inability to focus on anything other than Beth, for being the reason he doesn't hear the herd of walkers comin' until they're already on them, interrupting their impromptu service, forcing them to move on before any were really ready.

He hears Rick shouting his name in the distance as the group quickly tries to put distance between themselves and the herd, but he doesn't follow them. Instead, he walks straight into the herd, unleashing his anger and sadness and maybe half-hoping that one of them gets him, puts him out of his damn misery as he takes them down one by one.

He yells and screams and draws the herd away from the shallow grave and Beth. Leads them deeper into the woods, away from the group and hunts them down like prey; beats them until they're nothing but smashed bones and pulpy flesh and oozing innards.

He doesn't stop until there is no one left to kill but himself.

"_Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith."_

Swallowing thickly, he decides he's not there yet.

_Resurrection_

It's dark now and he's miles away from the church and the cemetery, and the group. He doesn't have it in him to track them down and rejoin them so he keeps heading in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between himself, and everything that was good and everything that hurt and everything that went to shit as he can. Keeps walkin' till his legs are numb, and he's forced to stop and rest against the trunk of a tree, his knife in his hand.

His eyes finally close after some time, but the image of blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, and crimson blood won't go away.


End file.
